


Sugar Puppies

by Kat_o_nine_Tails



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Idiots in Love, Modern Era, Multi, Reincarnation, Sugar Daddy Alucard, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, or maybe halfway canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24539317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_o_nine_Tails/pseuds/Kat_o_nine_Tails
Summary: What do you do if you’re down on your luck and about to be homeless? Well, if you’re Trevor Barrett, you go bitch to your ex-girlfriend, who then signs you and one of her friends up on a Sugar Dating site.Apparently, there was a rich older guy looking for a lad and lady pals, and Trevor and Sypha fit his oddly specific requirements almost perfectly. He wants company, they need money. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades, Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 47
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo... Amongst all of my WIPs, I went to watch Castlevania, got this idea, and gave into writing it because I am WEAK.
> 
> Betaed by the lovely, lovely [HaleyProtega282](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleyProtega282/pseuds/HaleyProtega282). You are a darling and the saviour of my soul. Also the only reason this thing is remotely readable.

Later, when enough time had passed that they could joke about it, Trevor would place the blame of the entire mess they found themselves in squarely on Eris’ shoulders. 

But even Eris, the ridiculous woman, needed a foundation to build her miracles, so Trevor could be grudgingly coerced to admit it started with an eviction notice. More specifically, Trevor’s. Because he was being kicked out of his apartment, and he had two weeks to pack up his stuff and find somewhere else to live.

The old Trevor, when he was younger and angrier and his social worker hadn’t yet sold her soul to straighten him out and give him another shot, that Trevor would have raged and swore and possibly punched the landlord’s son in his stupid, smug face. The Trevor of about a year ago would have gotten blindingly drunk and woken up throwing up his guts.

And while his fist might itch something fierce, and all he wanted was to find the first party that provided alcohol and forget what a miserable shitshow his life was, the Trevor as he was now just sighed and went to class. He didn’t want to miss any more lectures than he already did.

Signing up for a University had been a long and laborious process, considering he’d passed high school just barely enough that it could be called passing. With his grades and two years of being drunk and disorderly, he had to absolutely ace all the entrance exams if he wanted even a shot at it. If it hadn’t been for Miss Andrea looking out for him well after he was no longer her responsibility, he could honestly say he would have been dead in a ditch somewhere by now instead of working on a biology degree.

Even if absolutely everything in his life failed, he wanted to at least fulfil his promise to her. 

Didn’t mean he couldn’t bitch about it.

“It’s like my breakfast wasn’t enough, now God shits in my dinner too,” Trevor told Eris over their soggy canteen lunches. The food was lucky it was so cheap, otherwise the student canteen would have been about as populated as a haunted Victorian mansion.

“That sucks,” his ex-girlfriend grimaced in sympathy, “Jeez, it’s like everything is going downhill for everyone around me. Makes you wonder who’s next.”

“That’s how it is on this bitch of an Earth,” a voice behind Trevor chimed in, “Mind scooting over?”

Trevor pushed his tray to the left so Eris’ friend, Sypha, could sit next to him. “Maybe, but something tells me quoting Samuel Beckett isn’t going to make it any better either.”

“Can’t make it worse,” Sypha shrugged, and it was truly a bad situation if she didn’t tease him about actually recognising a line from Waiting for Godot. 

“How’s your grandpa?” Eris asked cautiously.

“Better,” Sypha perked up a little, “He can walk on his own now, even if it’s only to the kitchen and back. We got the scans back yesterday, and it seems the tumor is completely gone. We’re hoping this procedure was the lucky one.”

“Fifth time’s the charm, eh?” Trevor bumped her shoulder, “Hopefully you’ll have more luck than I did.”

“What happened?”

“Trevor’s landlord died and his son’s an ass-sucker to end all ass-suckers,” Eris put it concisely.

“Yeah, he’s hoping to turn it into some kind of art studio or something, and you can’t do that if you have tenants,” Trevor sighed, “I have two weeks to find a new place that’s in my price range, and the chances of doing that without rooming with a crackhead are slim. But I’d rather not suffer the indignity of student housing.” The only one close to his university was shit, and the crackhead roommate problem remained. Trevor would rather take his chances with actual apartments again.

“You know you can always move in with me,” Eris reminded him, “If you’re worried about your virtue we can build a little pillow wall on the bed.”

“Eris, I’ve been to your apartment, if you can even call that tiny soulless box an apartment,” Trevor raised an eyebrow, “We’d end up either killing each other or fucking within a week, and no offense, but there’s a reason we broke up.”

“Still buys you an extra week,” Eris shrugged, “And if all else fails, you can become a stripper again.”

Sypha choked on her peas. “Again?!”

“Excuse you, I was a bouncer,” Trevor acted insulted, “I protected the very limber and athletic ladies from old pervy men who wanted to take advantage of them.”

“Sure,” Eris smirked, “And you had to watch them real close for that. Just to make sure.”

“Well, of course,” Trevor puffed up his chest, “I took my job seriously.”

“How did you lose it then?” Trevor glared at her for that. She knew damn well why he lost that job, and he didn’t need the reminder.

“Honestly, you two are fiends,” Sypha threw her hands up in the air, “I have no idea why I’m still friends with you.”

“We’re friends with you, you didn’t get a say in the matter,” Eris grinned. The smile fell off her face when she caught sight of the canteen clock, “Shit. I gotta run or I’ll miss my consultation.”

“But,” Trevor eyed her plate. It was still mostly full, “You’ve barely eaten.”

Eris sighed, but didn’t flinch. “Don’t worry, mom. I ate breakfast and there’s a vending machine in the entrance hall. I won’t go hungry.”

There was something off about that wording, and Trevor reflexively checked her up and down. Belt was on the third loop, collarbones were poking out but not too much, she was wearing a normal bra and there was only the usual amount of concealer underneath her eyes. Sleeves were rolled down but didn’t seem to be dragging on anything.

“Have I passed the inspection?” Eris asked with a hint of exhaustion in her voice, “Can I go now? I really do have consultations.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. He kept forgetting it was no longer any of his business. “Sure. Good luck.”

“Keep it, you need all the luck you got, trooper,” Eris grabbed her tray and walked off to pay her bill, leaving him alone in awkward silence with Sypha.

“I do it too, you know,” Sypha admitted to her potatoes, “Checking if she’s gotten worse.”

“You know she doesn’t appreciate it,” Trevor told her. He’d lost his own appetite, honestly.

“Yeah, but that’s what friends are for. To look out for you when you can’t do it yourself. Whether or not the friend in question can actually ask for it.”

Trevor felt a smile tugging on the edges of his lips. One of these days he was going to have the sufficient education to scientifically prove that Sypha Bosko was an actual angel. He had no idea how he would go about it, but that was what he was going to college for. Because there was no way that all that goodness and faith in humanity could actually be contained in a flesh and blood human.

“What?” Sypha pouted at him, “If you’re going to make fun of me for my ‘optimistic naiveté’, let me remind you that you were doing it first.”

“Wasn’t laughing at you,” Trevor grumbled, “I have to get going soon, too. Your lunch break’s tomorrow around one?”

“Er, yeah.”

“Cool, see you then,” Trevor shoved the rest of his chicken nuggets into his mouth, grabbed his tray and practically ran the same way Eris did, because he did happen to have a class to get to.

For all the good that did him. He spent the entirety of the Anatomy of Plants lecture thinking about Sypha. Her smile, her eyes, how she was so determined and passionate, how she could stand with her spine straight and hope in her eyes in between attending University and visiting her grandfather in the middle of his chemo treatment. She was amazing.

She was, in short, way too good for the likes of him. And he was pretty sure it broke some kind of unspoken rule to date your ex’s best friend. The only reason he even knew Sypha was because Eris dragged her best friend to the Freshman’s Party their Uni threw. 

Trevor had broken every single promise he made to himself and gotten blind drunk that night. That still hadn’t stopped him from noticing the actual Freshie being cornered by three guys much burlier than her and leering in a way that sent Trevor’s hackles up faster than being at actual gunpoint.

So Trevor did a very Trevor thing and pulled the asshole away from her and punched him in the face, one-punch knockout. Very heroic of him, that. It was much less heroic when the other two guys descended on him, and the damsel he’d been rescuing upended an entire pitcher of punch over the guy’s head and zapped the other one with a handy-dandy shocker to save him.

Then they both lost the points for their heroics when they tripped all over each other running from those assholes’ other friends and ended up rolling into the basement. Then they’d had to hide in the closet while those guys picked a fight with some Physics graduates. You’d think a bunch of nerds wouldn’t even know how to throw a punch, but hauling all that ridiculous equipment must have been good for something because that war had sounded nothing short of epic.

In conclusion, he’d managed not to throw up on Sypha’s sandals, they’d snuck past the brawlers and somehow managed to find Eris. Eris, equally as drunk as Trevor, had cried and thanked him like he had saved her friend from the jaws of death itself. Next thing he knew they were making out like horny teenagers they were.

But that was over now. Trevor’s longest relationship of his entire life, lasting a full four months. They’d only lasted as long as they did because Eris was just as fucked up as Trevor, only in different ways. They figured they could be together because at least they did not judge each other and their coping methods, but that had led to a mutually destructive spiral they were still trying to get out of. 

And now, just when Trevor had glimpsed the sunlight at the end of the tunnel, it turned out to be an oncoming train. 

Yeah, to reiterate his previous point, Sypha didn’t need a fuckup like him, especially considering her own problems. It was a miracle she even acknowledged him in public, after he and Eris broke up, but that just went to show that Sypha was some manner of divine being that ended up on Earth by mistake. Or because she liked human literature too much to resist. 

In short, Trevor was going to keep his paws to himself and count the blessings he already had.

* * *

Two weeks came and went, and Trevor found very few blessings in his life as he, Sypha and Eris hauled the boxes that contained his entire life into Eris’ flat. 

Three boxes and one backpack. That was all of his worldly possessions, everything he could confidently say was actually his. 

“That’s everything?” Sypha put her box down on Eris’ desk. It held all the spiral-bound textbook copies for Trevor’s classes. It was much cheaper to borrow the books from the library and copy them than buy them second hand, and the professors didn’t even mind, as long as they did have textbooks.

“Yep,” Trevor dropped his own box next to the closet. He moved one step to the left and sat at the counter that separated the tiny kitchenette from the rest of the apartment, “It’s not much, but, well…”

“Reminds me of when I was little,” Sypha smiled and it sent flutters through Trevor’s stomach, “My family owned a camper trailer and we travelled all over Europe with it. You have to be careful with so little space, so the golden rule was ‘if it doesn’t fit into your bag, it’s not coming with us’.”

“Ugh, I keep forgetting you grew up as a modern nomad,” Eris rolled her eyes, then smiled mischievously, “You know she kept forgetting to wear her shoes to school when she first came here? Not to mention it took forever to convince her that she could have _three_ whole outfits. I despaired, I tells ya.”

“Well your efforts paid off,” Sypha grinned sunnily, “I have four whole outfits now. And three extra shirts. God knows what I’ll do with so much clothes. I should get rid of some-”

“Don’t you dare!” Eris squeaked and pointed a threatening finger at Sypha, “I worked hard to turn you into a real girl, you are not ruining my efforts just to be funny!”

As they continued to bicker about ridiculous girl stuff, Trevor felt his shoulders relax. Nothing like a catfight to break him out of his own self-pity. He went to raid Eris’ fridge, and sure enough there was beer in there. And some leftover pizza that looked recent enough to still be edible. Good, as long as it was actual food Trevor could sleep easier at night.

“I can’t even walk in those things you call heels!” Sypha was saying just as he came back, then grimaced, “Though I just might have to learn. How high did you say those stripper heels are?”

Those words were nearly the cause of Trevor’s death. He heard the words just as he’d brought the can to his lips, then the mental image hit him, and all the beer went down the entirely wrong pipe.

“Did I- _wheeze-_ miss something?!” Trevor demanded once he was reasonably certain he would survive.

“God, Trevor, I was just joking!” Sypha patted him on the back. Eris, the bitch, was still laughing, “I would be awful at it, for a start. Not to mention I definitely don’t have the thighs for it.”

Fuck, and now he was thinking about Sypha’s thighs. God must be doing his very best to murder him today.

“Can I ask- What, uh, prompted this discussion?” Because he really needed some context here before he _actually_ expired on Eris’ floor.

Sypha winced, then went to sit on Eris’ bed. “I need to get another job, and Eris has been her own particular brand of helpful.”

“You got fired or something?” Trevor asked. He knew Sypha worked as a cashier in a little fashion outlet in the mall near her house. It was near the place where Trevor got most of his groceries from and if he had the time he was prone to wandering over and bothering her over her break.

“No,” Sypha shook her head, “But money is tight right now, and Grandpa can’t work. Plus, the last procedure was really costly, and… Well, we had to take some loans for it.”

“Shouldn’t have insurance covered most of it?” Trevor asked. 

“It’s a new procedure, and there’s only one private clinic that actually has it in the entire country,” Sypha sighed, “The bank gave us time to pay it off but it’s been pressing on my mind like a second mortgage. And like I said, grandpa can’t work anymore, and all the rest of my family are somewhere out there on the trails…”

“Sypha,” Eris sat next to her and threw her arm around her shoulders, “I’m really sorry about that. But even if you get another job, you still have a degree to finish. You’re going to burn out within _months_.”

“Well do you have any better ideas?” Sypha grumbled, “If it comes down to it, I’ll drop out and restart again when I’m on better footing.”

Trevor nearly started spluttering again. “Drop out?! But Sypha, you were literally _made_ to be a huge history nerd! You can’t drop out!”

“I’m open to suggestions!” Sypha barked back, “I’m reviewing all the options I have, in case you haven’t noticed! And if I do become a stripper maybe I can put in a good word for you too! You need it more than I do!”

Trevor flinched back and Sypha’s rage melted into regret instantly. 

“Well shit,” Eris chewed her lip, sighed, then dragged her laptop over, “I might have a solution, but you are not gonna like it.”

“Oi, I’m not actually becoming a stripper!” Trevor balked.

“I honestly can’t tell you if this is better or worse than stripping,” Eris mumbled as she waited for her laptop to wake up. “Just hear me out ‘till the end, and then you can shoot my suggestion down in flames, okay?”

Trevor and Sypha looked at each other doubtfully. They were both familiar with Eris’ idea of ‘brilliant solutions’ enough to be instantly wary of them.

“So, uh,” Eris looked at them shooting each other looks and grimaced, “How exactly would you feel about getting a Sugar Daddy?”

Trevor blinked. Then blinked again. He ran the sentence over in his head again. Nope, still not making any sense.

“Come again?” Sypha asked mildly.

“Look,” Eris rubbed her eyes, “You both know I’ve done some… mildly questionable things back when I was younger.”

Trevor and Sypha both kept their mouths shut. Bringing up things Eris had had to do to get away from her stark raving mad bitch of a mother was usually nothing short of a taboo. Sypha knew because she was probably there for the most of it, and Trevor knew only because he and Eris had gotten drunk one night and shared sob stories hoping the other wouldn’t remember them in the morning.

“Yeah, so, out of all things I did, I think this one is probably the best balanced in the means of safety and actual payoff,” Eris continued as her laptop finally woke up. She pulled it up on her lap and tapped a few keys on it, then turned it around. “And this is probably the best site for it.”

Trevor and Sypha looked at Eris’ screen in mounting horror. The site in question was well designed, pale greens and bits of orange in a minimalistic design, with a scrolling menu to the side, and in the pictures he did see everyone was photographed fully clothed. There was nothing Trevor had actually envisioned when he’d actually managed to get past the Sugar Daddy part.

Then he went straight back into ‘NOPE’ territory when he saw that Eris had a few potential prospects _bookmarked._

“Here’s the thing,” Eris rose a hand the moment Trevor opened his mouth. “Sugar Babies are not prostitutes. Sugaring doesn’t even need to necessarily involve sex. The basic idea, in your case at least, is getting paid for services rendered, yes, but what those services are varies on a case to case basis. Back when I was doing this I was mostly looking for someone who was willing to share sleeping space, but I stuck with sugar daddies because the men who sign up for these are usually well-off older men who have a thing for taking care of grateful younger ladies. You still get perverts, of course, but a lot less than if you sign up to an actual Escort site.”

Trevor raised his hand. Eris gave him a baleful look.

“Please tell me I’m not included in this discussion,” Trevor almost outright begged. 

“Don’t worry, I have a few Sugar Mamas bookmarked as well, I took into account that you’re bi,” Eris said that like it was meant to reassure him. It did not.

“If it’s not about sex, then…” Sypha asked uncomfortably, “What exactly would we be doing?”

“Providing company, mostly,” Eris shrugged, “Like I said, it varies case to case. Most of these men are looking for a sympathetic ear, a dinner and some fun a few times a month, some sexy help around the house or some pretty company on business dinners. There was one Daddy I stuck with for almost a year who let me sleep in his guest room and basically took care of all my costs while I was with him because I reminded him of his daughter. Oh get those looks off your faces, he was one of the few I didn’t even give a hand job to. Sypha, you remember Luca, did he ever strike you as a creep?”

“Wait,” Sypha suddenly looked horrified, “Luca was your Sugar Daddy?! You said he was a distant uncle from your dad’s side!”

Eris shrugged. “He might as well have been. All I had to do was wear my hair up in little twin buns, help around the house and call him Dad. He was just a normal guy who was missing his kid. And yeah, I realise you two aren’t going to find someone who isn’t going to want at least a little flirting for his money, but I still think these are your best options.”

“I need more beer for this,” Trevor climbed to his feet and made a beeline for Eris’ fridge and took all of her beer. He also spotted a can of cider and grabbed it too.

“-your other, er, Daddies?” Sypha asked when he returned, face looking like she did a nosedive into tomato soup. Trevor plonked himself on the floor next to her and handed her the cider, then opened the beer for himself. 

“I was pretty young back then, so I stuck with the milder contracts,” Eris continued, “There’s a guy who was working on his doctorate back then who wanted me to come with him to family gatherings and basically fight off his nosy relatives for some surprisingly hefty cash. That one’s still standing, and I still see him every Christmas. There was another older guy who wanted me to cook and clean in a maid costume. Then there was the one in his mid-thirties who just wanted me to come for dinner and dancing with him in vintage clothes once a week. And there was-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Trevor waved his hands around, “When the hell did you have time for all that? I’m pretty sure you weren’t disappearing off somewhere in maid costumes when we were dating.”

“Nah, I was done with it by then. I made enough money to find an actual job and everything,” Eris assured him, “It was mostly when I was… eighteen to twenty? Something like that, I stopped when I started Uni. A little hard to juggle lab practice and Sugaring. Which is also something you’ll need to manage if you agree to this.”

“Oh god, give me that,” Sypha grabbed the beer Trevor had just opened straight out of his hands, “Why am I only now finding out about this? Eris, you’re telling me you were selling yourself back when I was still in high school! Why didn’t you tell me? We would have helped you!”

“Sypha, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not exactly rolling in money yourself,” Eris told her, “You still had two years of high school to finish when I was kicked out, and you only had your grandfather with you. You’ve done plenty just by letting me sleep on your couch. And even if there was something more you could have done, I wouldn’t have let you. I was dead set on managing on my own. Don’t beat yourself up over something you didn’t even know about.”

That was the thing about Eris. She had this thing about being the cause of other people’s guilt, namely that she avoided it at all costs. She was quick to remind people that she would not be pitied, and that she was nobody’s responsibility but her own. It was the kind of thought process Trevor could understand, but ultimately ended up chafing against. Another reason he and Eris were doomed from the start. 

“Anyway, where were we?” Eris asked rhetorically and turned back to her laptop. “All the applicants must receive a background check before they can make an account, including the Sugar Babies-”

“Please stop calling it ‘babies’,” Trevor begged and went unheeded.

“-so if you make an account you need to wait a few days for your data to be verified.”

“Well that’s gonna fall apart,” Trevor told her, “You do remember I have a criminal record, right?”

“The charges from before you were eighteen were locked up and you haven’t done anything worse than a misdemeanor since,” Eris reminded him, “They only know if you’ve done something if it’s on public record and done within the last year, and it’s not displayed on the site itself anyway. There are filters you can turn on for that, but it won’t stop you from making an account. I already checked.”

Trevor shut up and slumped against Sypha’s knees. “Fine, say we actually go along with this crazy scheme of yours. Sypha would probably be snatched within an instant,” he got a mild tap on his head for that, “but in case you haven’t noticed, _I’m a guy._ ”

“No, really?” Eris grinned, “Could have fooled me. And I already told you, I have some Sugar Mamas bookmarked who specified their tastes as right your type. _And_ a few Daddies,” Eris smirked knowingly, “It’s almost like people actually go looking for cute, buff guys with baby blue eyes and mad kitchen skills.”

Trevor blushed and looked away. Sypha giggled and pet his hair. “Well, I can see Eris’ point. You really are cute when you want to be.”

There were butterflies in Trevor’s stomach that definitely weren’t there before. And Eris, damn her, _noticed._

“In fact,” she pulled her laptop back to her, “There is one Daddy on offer that I think would suit both of you.”

“Both? You mean either of us, right?” Sypha asked.

“Nope,” Eris turned the laptop over to her, “I mean both. He’s looking for a guy _and_ gal, preferably at the same time.”

Sypha accepted the laptop from her and cautiously peered at the profile Eris opened. Trevor got up on his knees so he could get high enough to look at the screen.

_Adrian Conqvist,_ the profile read. Thirty-two, PhD, business owner. A little young to be preying on unsuspecting college students, in Trevor’s opinion, but if the guy was rich and ug-

_Holy Christ on a cracker._

Blond hair flowing past his shoulders. A straight aristocratic nose, pale like a Victorian lady, eyelashes Trevor had been reliably informed most girls would kill for, and piercing amber eyes. 

Trevor felt his mouth go dry. 

“Are you trying to tell me a supermodel is on a Sugar Daddy site? Like, as a Daddy?” Sypha couldn’t believe it either. “There’s no way that’s not Photoshop.”

“It’s not,” Eris told them with a grin, “I almost didn’t include him because even though I didn’t get any red flags on the guy there are a few oddities about him, but the first thing I did was Google his name. All the info provided checks out. The only thing the site doesn’t mention is that he’s a _bona fide_ multi-millionaire. Inherited a fortune from his daddy and kept expanding it. Mostly a hermit, I had to dig for a bit to find which circles he runs in, but honestly? The guy’s a classic case of ‘lonely and in need of some warm company to listen to his woes’. And it gets better: look at the description of the company he’s looking for.”

Sypha clicked on the ‘ _Looking For:’_ tab and found two descriptions under the female and male icons.

_Hair: Strawberry Blond Hair: Dark Brown_

_Height: 150-170cm Height: 160-180cm_

_Eyes: Blue Eyes: Blue_

_Skin: Pale Skin: Olive tone_

_Age: 18-25 Age: 18-25_

_Specifics: Scholarly, versed in old literature, Specifics: Well built, preferably_ _  
preferably well traveled. versed in hunting and fighting. _

Trevor blinked at those descriptions, shared a look with Sypha then looked at Eris for an explanation.

“Like I said, there’s a few oddities around this guy,” Eris told them, “But that profile was made almost two years ago, and you two didn’t even know each other back then.”

“Then why is this guy looking for two people with our exact physical descriptions?” Trevor asked her incredulously.

“It’s honestly not that weird,” Eris shrugged, “That’s how I found Luca. He wanted specifically someone who resembled his daughter, and I’m guessing this guy is looking for something similar. People he loved and broke up with, childhood crushes he never got to live out, that sort of thing. And he did put in the _and/or_ specificator, that means he’s hoping to find at least one person, but wasn’t going to turn down multiple applicants.”

“Wait, do you actually know how to hunt?” Sypha turned to Trevor, which threw him for a loop.

“Used to,” Trevor shrugged uncomfortably, “Back when my folks were still around. It sorta’ runs in the family. Grandpa used to brag he caught a wolf once. But I barely learned to hold a hunting rifle before… Yeah.”

“Oh,” Sypha turned to Eris, “Are you sure about this?”

“Well, you can’t be sure of anything unless you actually meet this guy, and that’s only if you actually do pick him,” Eris reminded them, “Think about it. I recommend you do some research on your own, look up other profiles I’ve bookmarked you, browse a bit. If you’re still game, you can make your accounts.”

“And what if we do make our accounts?” Sypha asked, “What would we need to do?”

“Again, it varies on a case by case basis. If you have an account the site has a chatroom, so you can get offers and chat up someone you like. If you find someone who you think would be a good match, you arrange a date.”

“Just like that?” Trevor chimed in doubtfully.

“Well, first of all, always make sure it’s in a public place,” Eris’ tone turned grave, “I’m serious. If the guy wants you to come to his house straight away, that’s a major red flag. Restaurant, café, the public park during daylight hours, just make sure there are other people around in case he turns out to be a creep.”

“Sounds like your standard first date,” Sypha remarked and Trevor honestly couldn’t tell if she was joking. “What then?”

“You got that part right at least: the first date is usually pretty much a standard first date,” Eris held up her fingers and started counting off, “Introduce yourself. Find some common ground. Find common interests. Feel out the atmosphere. Figure out if you want to go on the second date.”

“So no slapping the kink list straight on the table until the second date?” Trevor was still sceptical. 

“Yes and no,” Eris waved her hand in a so-so gesture, “If the guy is looking for something specific, like that Conqvist guy, it’s probably going to be Terms of Service first, and then if all parties are capable of fulfilling them then you figure out if you actually _want_ to fulfill them. If the guy in question is more vague in the terms of company he’s looking for then it’s your standard first date, kink negotiations on the second.”

“And the terms of, er, payment?” Sypha asked. She had stopped blushing a few questions ago but she still sounded a little uncertain. At least she was doing better than Trevor, who still couldn’t believe they were actually seriously _discussing this._

“Well…” Eris looked a little uncomfortable for the first time, “That’s another reason I bookmarked the Conqvist guy: most of the people who go looking for a Sugar Daddy are looking for a little extra cash and some fun, not an actual living salary. Sugaring can go two ways: the Pampering Fantasy or the Gold Digger. Those two are in entirely different leagues, and you two absolutely do not have what it takes for the Gold Digger bracket. Unfortunately, that one pays the best, so I was aiming for well off people who are looking for some genuine company instead of a perfectly polished five-star arm candy.”

“Then why did you suggest this as our best option instead of getting another job? It certainly seems easier.” Sypha asked. 

“You need more money from a source that won’t cut too much into your study time,” Eris pointed at Sypha, then turned on Trevor, “He needs at least a place to crash until he can find his own. It’s still the best option for both of you, especially short-term. And if I do my job correctly, you’re basically getting paid to be taken care of. You can’t tell me the concept is so revolting to you.”

“Okay,” Trevor ran a hand through his hair, “I think that last beer was a bit much, because this is starting to seem like a workable idea.”

“You had two beers,” Eris deadpanned, “I’ve seen you shotgun Jägermeister. It’s starting to sound like a workable idea because it is. You just need some luck, and some soul searching to find your own limits in this.”

“Limits?” Sypha looked up from Eris’ laptop, “You mean how, um, sexual we want to make it?”

“Yes, but not just that. Sugaring is still work, even though it’s easy in theory. You are making yourself into someone else’s fantasy, and if you’re lucky it matches up with your existing personality, but if it doesn’t you’re playing pretend for as long as you’re in their company. You also need to figure out how much acting you can handle.”

“We’re still on the Conqvist guy, aren’t we?” Trevor sighed, “You said he’s looking for two specific people and we happen to match them in looks, but not necessarily personalities. But he pays well and you’re wondering how long we’re gonna be able to hold up.”

“ _If_ you decide on him, yes,” Eris sighed, “Honestly, he’s probably not a good idea for newbies like you, and not just because you are from two entirely different social classes. The point of Sugaring is to find someone you personally can handle seeing for a bit of extra benefits, not to become a method actor.”

“You said he’s probably lonely,” Sypha said with a note of sadness in her voice, “I’m still on his profile. It says here he’s looking mostly for company and conversation, some dinner dates. Anything further could be discussed. And, well, look at him!” Sypha turned the laptop around so Conqvist’s picture was right in front of his nose.

“Yeah, I noticed he’s hot, Sypha, I have eyes.”

“No! Well, yes, but look at his expression,” Sypha insisted, “He looks sad even in his profile photo.”

Trevor almost asked her what the hell was she on, but despite himself he did take a closer look at the enlarged profile photo. The first word that came to Trevor’s mind to describe his expression was ‘blank’. The word still came to mind, but it was now accompanied by ‘deliberately so’. A bit of closer inspection revealed slight shadows under his eyes and the lax tilt of his lips. 

Sypha was right. He looked sad and trying not to show it.

“And, if nothing else,” Eris tilted her head in consideration, “Even if he turns out to be a creep you’d be together to watch each other’s backs. Plus, you don’t need to do anything if the first date doesn’t go well, or even the chat introductions. And there are other options if you decide against this particular guy. If he’s not what you’re looking for, or you’re not what he’s looking for, you can just walk away and we can start again. Chalk this one up for a learning experience.”

Sypha had her thinking face on. Trevor just sighed. When she had that face on, 90% of the time that meant she’s already made up her mind and was just churning over the logistics or how to proceed. 

“Fine,” he threw his hands in the air, “We won’t know unless we try. I guess we’re doing this. Sign our asses up for sale, Madam.”

Sypha smacked him on the head for that. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by the lovely [HaleyProtega282](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleyProtega282/pseuds/HaleyProtega282) once again.

“You’re fidgeting again,” Sypha told him.

“And you’re not,” Trevor snarked back, “I still don’t get how you can be so calm.”

“Look, this either works or it doesn’t. If not, we at least get a free dinner out of it,” Sypha reminded him.

“And if it does? What then?”

Sypha wrung her fingers for a moment before deliberately laying them flat on her lap. “Then we do as we discussed with Eris: plan a second date, and figure out money and limits.”

Trevor tugged at his necktie for the umpteenth time and did his best not to fidget like he was sitting on the devil’s own dinner plate. He decided against telling Sypha that most plans had a habit of falling apart at the merest touch of reality. That probably wouldn’t go over well. 

Honestly, he had no idea just what would be considered as ‘going well’. He certainly didn’t have much experience with it. Yet here they were, off to meet their prospective Sugar Daddy.

Eris had indeed delivered on her promise and made them both accounts on the accursed Sugar Dating site. They had a little photoshoot against the white wall of her apartment when it was sunny out and gotten some rather flattering shots of them both. Their basic info was hashed out, bios written, pictures loaded and up the accounts went. 

The day their accounts got approved Trevor had gotten three notifications within 24 hours. Sypha got twelve. They’d discarded all of them on account of either not being what they were looking for or being downright creeps. The offers that came in after weren’t much better, so Eris had kicked their asses into gear and made them get a bit more proactive. They’d each picked one of Eris’ bookmarked people to write to, and they sat together when they wrote to Adrian Conqvist. 

The guy took three days to respond. They’d almost written him off by the time he got in touch with them, and Trevor was instantly wary. Surely he wasn’t getting so many offers that it took three days to get to them. Sypha insisted he was probably busy, and his profile did say something about owning a business.

After that, it took a surprisingly short amount of time to arrange the first date. As in, immediately after the guy found out Trevor and Sypha knew each other in real life. 

It made the gremlin wary.

There was a tiny gremlin in Trevor’s head that had served him well back when he was a street kid, hissing in warning every time it sensed danger, be they gangs or cops. The golden rule was: if the gremlin was hissing, you got the hell out of whatever situation you were in. Whatever vestigial instinct that proverbial gremlin was, it had saved Trevor’s life multiple times.

Right now it was pacing in circles with its hackles up, but no matter how Trevor turned the situation over in his head he couldn’t figure out what was setting the little gremlin off this time. Conqvist had been polite, courteous and while he asked some odd questions he hadn’t come off as creepy or invasive. He had suggested a moderately fancy restaurant for them to meet up, but had left the location up for discussion. Eris had looked over their chats and pronounced it free of creepiness. Sypha said she had a good feeling about it.

So why was Trevor’s little gremlin throwing a fit over the whole thing?

He hadn’t said anything to either Eris or Sypha. They were women, and therefore much better socialized for spotting predatory men than he was, so if they hadn’t said anything it was probably Trevor’s usual brand of paranoia that reared its head whenever his life showed any signs of getting better. 

Still, he kept reminding himself that this was just the meet-cute. They always had the option of getting up and walking straight out the door. But if the gremlin started actually hissing at any point, Trevor didn’t care if they had to escape through the toilet window, he was not letting Sypha get hurt.

The cab finally arrived in front of the French restaurant they were meeting their date in. Trevor paid the taxi driver, since his rent had halved now that he was rooming with Eris, and climbed out after Sypha.

Sypha looked beautiful. Well, more beautiful than usual, with her ginger hair in a French twist and her eyes softly lined and lips plump with gloss. Eris had given her one of her own dresses, gifted to her by a previous Sugar Daddy. She called it the perfect cycle of irony or something, but the tight-fitting, high-necked and sleeveless seafoam dress suited Sypha perfectly. It also had a little, heart-shaped boob-window that revealed a small patch of skin just above her cleavage. If it worked on Conqvist half as much as it did on Trevor, Sypha might just end up with a chunk of the guy’s fortune a few years down the line.

Trevor himself had been stuffed into a suit of all things. Eris had shoved him into the bathroom and forbidden him from coming out until he was clean shaven and showered, then pulled out the only semi-formal article of clothing Trevor possessed and did a formidable attempt to make him look decent, including smearing concealer under his eyes and a bit of rouge on his cheeks. Trevor, of course, ruined all of her efforts the moment she was out of sight by pulling the tie around his throat loose. He still looked mostly decent but not as perfectly put together as Eris had hoped. Sypha assured him he still looked sexy, which wasn’t as comforting as she had intended it to be.

So together they made it to the maître d’, and of course there was a maître d’ because the ‘moderately fancy’ adjective was a horrible, blatant lie. Eris had sat them down and gave a crash course in formal dinner etiquette, but Trevor was pretty sure this establishment was far from even her league, nevermind theirs.

That, combined with the way the man’s eyes widened in near reverence at Conqvist’s name, sent the little gremlin in Trevor’s head into another pique. They were promptly escorted past the other attendees and shuffled over to the more secluded table behind a fucking velvet curtain of all things, where Adrian Conqvist sat at the unnecessarily big table with drinks already served and a truly staggering amount of cutlery.

The motherfucker was absolutely and unfairly pretty, sitting on his velvet-backed chair like it was a throne and holding a glass of wine like he was looking into a crystal ball. When the Maître d’ led them past the curtain and announced their names, he finally deigned to look at them and had the gall to raise an impetuous eyebrow _._

“You’re rather early, aren’t you?” he remarked as if to himself and looked over the rim of his glass suspiciously. 

Forget the little gremlin, that little display sent _Trevor’s_ hackles up.

“If we’re early, what does that make you, overeager?” Trevor snarked, because that was what Trevor did when he was feeling cornered, and promptly ruined the entire date before they even got to sit.

At least, that’s how it should have gone. 

Conqvist looked so surprised it seemed his jaw was a second away from dropping on the floor. Sypha barely had time to elbow him in the ribs before Conqvist was _laughing._ Like, outright genuinely _laughing._

“Guilty, I suppose,” he said with a grin that was way sharper than it needed to be. “Please, sit.”

Sypha sat down with a polite smile and pulled Trevor down into his chair by the back of his trousers, so it was either sit or flash the potential Sugar Daddy, and that would have set a precedent Trevor wasn’t so comfortable with.

Conqvist, the bastard, looked utterly delighted.

“Order whatever you like,” Conqvist said with a generous smile, “Dinner is on me, obviously.”

_Obviously_. The smug bastard. Trevor was going to order the entire menu. 

Unfortunately, that was the point when common sense decided to rear its head. They had signed up for this. They were actually hoping this would go _well,_ and Trevor probably wasn’t helping by being antagonistic before they even got to the negotiations stage. He’d already made a less-than-stellar first impression.

Though, for some reason, Conqvist seemed to like it. Huh. Maybe his ex-boyfriend was an asshole as well. 

“Sorry about that,” Sypha managed a smile as she accepted the menu from the waiter, “We’re sort of new at this.”

“So I gathered,” Conqvist was still smiling, but it was softer now, “It’s understandable you would be nervous when meeting a strange man you met online for the first time.”

“And the subject matter of the meeting might have something to do with it,” Trevor grumbled to himself behind the menu. Conqvist visibly paused.

“Yes, that too,” he set the glass of wine down carefully, “I was hoping the food would ease the conversation, but I see you have some questions. You are free to ask them.”

Trevor and Sypha looked at each other hesitantly. There was a question they both wanted to ask, had debated it endlessly since they saw Conqvist’s profile, but even Trevor had enough social graces to figure out it would be insensitive to just come out and actually voice it. So the silence stretched long enough that the waiter took it as his cue.

“Are you ready to order?” he asked solicitously.

“Ah, yes,” Sypha handed the menu back, “I’ll have the dinner number three, but with salad instead of soup starter, please.”

The waiter gave her a stink-eye for that but wrote it down nonetheless. Trevor instantly hated him. If he actually knew the names of each and every eight-course rigmarole on the menu he would have made the waiter’s life hell. As it was, dinner number one featured something meaty with mushroom caps in the fourth course so he ended up choosing that. 

“I’ll have the Sunday usual,” Conqvist said dismissively, eyes still on Sypha and Trevor.

“The usual? You come here often?” Trevor joked, one eye still on the snooty waiter now taking away two thirds of the silverware around their plates.

“In a manner of speaking,” Conqvist smirked, “I’m one of the owners of this restaurant, and the location is convenient enough that I dine here the most. So yes, I do indeed come here relatively often.”

Shit, the guy was the owner of the restaurant? Eris’ warnings flashed through his head, that if a guy invited you straight to his house on the first date that was a major red flag. He was pretty sure inviting them to his restaurant behind a privacy curtain also counted. 

The bathroom windows on this place better be big enough to squeeze through.

“If I may ask…” Sypha started, no doubt which question was on her mind, then visibly changed her mind, “What is it you actually do?”

“A little of everything,” Conqvist answered easily, “My father had a lot of interests he invested in, and I inherited them all. I have shares in several businesses, a few rental properties and a number of patents that are still in use. I also have a doctorate in physics, medicine and pharmacology, and a degree in economics, engineering and genealogy, so I am often called for consultations.”

Sypha and Trevor looked at him in both awe and horror. Awe, because it really was impressive, and horror because- “Oh god, you were one of those kids with overachiever parents who wanted you to be a wunderkind, weren’t you?”

Sypha must have agreed with Trevor, because she didn’t even stomp on his foot for blurting it out like that.

“Something like that,” Conqvist chuckled, “My parents were indeed high achievers, and wanted me to be the same. But they were fine with me picking out what I actually wanted to do, so I can’t complain.”

“I’m just trying to figure out when you had time to sleep,” Sypha said, then immediately turned red, “Ah, sorry, I just-”

“No need,” Conqvist laughed, “I don’t need a lot of sleep, and I admit it certainly helped.”

_The lack of a social life helped too, no doubt,_ Trevor thought to himself. It certainly explained a few things about the whole situation. Like why he had to resort to paying other people to have a conversation with him.

“ _Un amuse-bouche_ ,” the waiter announced out of nowhere, and before Trevor could say ‘bless you’ he put a tiny plate with an even tinier yellowish jelly cake in front of Trevor. Sypha got half a fig with a slice of bacon and something that looked like green whipped cream on top of it. Conqvist got something dark red served inside an egg shell.

“Selected by chef Clément himself,” the waiter said like it was supposed to mean something to them, and flounced off.

Trevor leaned toward Sypha. “The hell?” Trevor’s French was less than half a step above abysmal, but he was pretty sure the first course wasn’t supposed to be pudding.

“It’s a pre-dinner snack,” Conqvist said, clearly trying not to laugh at them, “Just a bite or two to open up an appetite before the entrée arrives. It’s not on the menu because the chef preparing the meal will usually select it himself. Nothing nefarious about it.”

Trevor doubtfully poked at what looked and smelled like cheese pudding. Sypha gamely took hers and carefully bit into it, then let out a tiny moan that sent Trevor’s blood to his cheeks.

“It’s good,” she said in surprise.

“I should hope so,” Conqvist said, and Trevor noticed his face wasn’t as pale as it was a second ago either, “Chef Clément is one of the best there is.”

Unwilling to be shown up, Trevor took the tiny spoon next to his plate and scooped up a bit of his pudding. A second later he understood what Sypha meant. It was a little blander than Trevor’s usual tastes, but it melted on his tongue in a wave of Parmesan-y goodness.

“Well fuck me,” Trevor said as he took another spoonful, “This really is good.”

“Maybe after dinner, Trevor,” Sypha told him and nearly murdered him again when he almost inhaled his spoon. He put his head down to try and discreetly gather his wits, but Conqvist’s laughter was unmistakable. 

“Now who’s overeager,” he teased, “Let’s at least get past the _plat principal_ before those negotiations.”

Now Sypha was red as well and looked down at her empty plate, so the two of them looked like teenagers right after a scolding from their parents. 

The waiter appeared again to take their plates, and another immediately after him set down slightly bigger dishes. Sypha got a leaf-shaped one with lots of colorful cubes of vegetables, and a small cup of white sauce in the middle. Trevor got a square plate with three little cakes that he was relatively sure were scallops, with some lemony sauce. Conqvist got a plate of what looked like shrimp dancing on cucumber slices, with red berries sliced to open like flowers artfully arranged around them.

If that was his idea of ‘usual’ no wonder the guy was so pale and skinny. The portions were so small you already digested them by the time the next course arrived. Trevor was starting to think he and Sypha would have to stop by a drive-thru after dinner if they didn’t want to go hungry.

“Well, I think it’s your turn now,” Conqvist said, “You said you are both attending university. What do you study?”

“Oh,” Sypha swallowed one of her veggie cubes before answering, “I’m still an undergraduate, but I’m hoping to get a degree in Romanian Literature and History.”

“Bio undergrad, aiming for Ecology and Nature Conservation degree,” Trevor piped in somewhat absently. They might have been small, but damn those scallops were really something.

“Interesting,” Conqvist’s eyes narrowed, “So you’re not at the same university. How did you two meet then?”

“We eat at the same canteen,” Trevor told him at the same time Sypha said, “He used to date my best friend.”

Conqvist’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline.

“Um,” Sypha prevaricated, “Eris, my friend from high school, brought me to a party her university threw and ended up leaving with Trevor. After that we ended up sitting at the same table in the student canteen, and the rest is history.”

“You forget the part where we started a war between Economy and Physics graduates,” Trevor added without thinking, “I punched out one and you zapped the other, remember?”

“I’m surprised _you_ remember it,” Sypha remarked a tad sarcastically, “You were so sloshed it’s a wonder you saw which way to aim.”

“It was a party! What else are you supposed to do at a party except get sloshed and start an inter-university war?”

“I’m starting to think I’ve been attending all the wrong parties,” Conqvist remarked, reminding Sypha and Trevor of his presence. At least he seemed amused instead of horrified. “I have to say, you two are anything but dull.”

“I’m guessing that’s a good thing?” Sypha smiled sunnily.

“Indeed,” Conqvist grinned, and it struck Trevor as somehow disquieting even though he was pretty sure it was genuine. There was just something… Something about the teeth that made Trevor do a double-take, sit up and pay attention, but not in a good way. He just couldn’t figure out _what_. As far as he could tell Conqvist had perfectly straight, white teeth that matched his model-like aesthetic. Nothing more unusual than that.

The gremlin still wasn’t hissing, but the calm he was lulled into earlier had been disturbed yet again.

Still, the conversation flowed a lot easier after that, once Sypha and Trevor had some elaborate yet edible setup in front of them to pay half their attention to, which was probably Conqvist’s plan all along. He asked them a bit more about their ‘scholarly adventures’, as he put it. At one point Trevor went into a rant about wolves and how misrepresented the poor things were, and Sypha politely yet scathingly talked about one guy on her debate team who was way too interested in Machiavelli. And so it went until the waiters were putting ornate cups of coffee in front of them.

Trevor was still nibbling on a chocolate stick from the dessert course when Conqvist set his cup down and his expression was all business.

“I think,” he said carefully, “Now is the time for negotiations.”

Sypha paused mid-sip, then with equal care set her own cup of expensive coffee down. Trevor had a feeling she’d forgotten this was actually closer to a job interview than an actual date.

“So we passed the test?” Trevor guessed.

“If you want to call it that,” Conqvist raised an eyebrow, “I do like you, and it was good to be reminded what normal dinner conversation is supposed to be like. If you find my company to be the same, I think we can come to an agreement. Do you have any questions before we begin?”

Trevor and Sypha exchanged a telling look again. They’d hashed out a basic list of questions they wanted answered back in the cab, excluding the ones on the list Eris had provided them with. Her questions were more about payment and schedules, instead of the things that had been eating at Trevor. Like the question of-

“I don’t want to sound rude, but why did you want to, well, hire someone to keep you company?” Sypha beat him to it, “Surely you are not lacking options.”

“You would be surprised,” Conqvist said wryly and rested his elbows on the table, which was probably a breach of etiquette, “In the circles I run in, being anything less than absolutely self-sufficient is seen as a weakness. Seeking out company mostly means getting your pick of gold-diggers, and some are better at getting their hooks in you than others.”

“Um,” Trevor was a little confused, remembering what Eris told them about Sugaring, “Isn’t that, kinda’, what we’re doing here?”

Conqvist raised an eyebrow at that. “Do you intend to seduce me so I will buy you a yacht?”

“God, no,” Trevor balked, “What the fuck would I even do with a yacht?”

“A mansion and diamonds then?” Conqvist smiled and it was nothing short of predatory, “Suits and cars? A leg up in certain circles? Half of my fortune after a divorce splashed all across the gossip rags?”

Trevor and Sypha stared at him in horror. “What the fuck kind of people have you been dating, man?”

Conqvist laughed, his face thankfully dropping that maliciously hungry look. “Well here’s your answer then. At one point I just figured that if people were going to be after me for my money, I might as well pick the ones who were at least honest about it.”

Trevor and Sypha exchanged another look. “That’s…” Sypha grimaced, “Actually just sad.”

“Oh, no need for that,” Conqvist waved a hand dismissively, “It’s why you’re here, after all. Make the best of it.”

“Were they like that, too? The people we’re replacing?” Trevor opened his mouth and promptly shoved his foot in it.

Conqvist startled so badly he nearly dropped his cup. Sypha elbowed him in the arm and hissed a warning.

“Excuse me?” Conqvist asked.

So much for Trevor’s social graces. Well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Trevor ignored the look Sypha was trying to give him and turned to Conqvist. “Your profile asked for some very specific people. I think it’s fair to know whose shoes we would be stepping in.”

“Trevor!” Sypha finally lost it, “You can’t just ask someone who he lost like that!”

Whether she meant to or not, those words derailed Trevor quite effectively. “Lost? You mean…?”

Sypha looked at him like she wanted to beat his idiocy out of his head, but didn’t dare to do it in polite company. Trevor turned to Conqvist, and it seemed Sypha was right on the money. The man had his face down in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trevor couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt or just plain done with Trevor.

“I suppose I should have seen that question coming,” Conqvist finally looked up, the cold look of suspicion back in his eyes, “And you are both correct. I used to have... people I cared about who looked a lot like you two. But they are dead, and those profile descriptions were made over two years ago. I did not seek you out as _replacements_ , but if it makes you uncomfortable anyway, we can skip the last course.”

There were very few times in Trevor’s life that he felt shame. The last time had probably been when he was sitting behind bars, Miss Andrea on the other side, so tired and so disappointed in him and yet somehow still managing to say ‘you’re better than this, Trevor’. 

She would have been disappointed in him now.

“I apologize,” Trevor couldn’t quite look at Conqvist as he said it, “I didn’t think- Still, I shouldn’t have said it like that. My condolences.”

Sypha discreetly put her hand on his knee under the table and squeezed, whether to calm him down or keep him in line, he didn’t know. Either way, he impulsively took her hand and braved a look at Conqvist.

Some of that coldness had melted from his face, though he still looked somewhere between suspicious and contemplative, like he wasn’t sure Trevor was being sincere. And, alright, the few times he’d been bullied into apologizing for saying something extremely stupid he’d been lying through his teeth, but-

But Trevor knew what it was like to lose family, even those that weren’t actually related to you. And Conqvist, as much as he wanted to present himself as untouchable, obviously cared about those people, whoever they were. 

Whoever they’d been.

“Apology accepted,” Conqvist finally said, voice the softest Trevor had heard it so far, “I guess I really should not have been so surprised. It’s not a hard leap of logic, to come to that conclusion.”

“Still, I should have at least worded it better than-,” Trevor tried to say before Sypha squeezed his knee again.

“Somewhat ironically,” Conqvist’s lip curled into an odd little half-smile, “When I chose you two, I was hoping to get someone… Genuine. I have an entire entourage of sycophants falling all over themselves just to stroke my ego, and I’d grown tired of them. Yet I had not realized it had gotten so fragile that two careless sentences can bruise it.”

“Ego is not the same thing as grief,” Sypha protested. “There is nothing wrong with missing people you loved and lost.”

“You say that, and I can tell that you actually mean it,” Conqvist looked at her… Well, for a moment, he looked at her a lot like Trevor looked at her, “I’d almost forgotten- Nevermind,” the pleasant smile was back on his face, and he waved for the waiter, “We’ve digressed from our original topic quite a bit, I’m afraid. It’s grown later than I’ve expected, and I’m reasonably sure I need to return the two of you home before whoever you have becomes worried for your safety. Stefan,” a suited bodyguard practically materialized next to Conqvist, “Order and pay them a taxi. And bring me my briefcase.”

Trevor and Sypha sat in tense silence while Conqvist rifled through some papers, looking for something. It didn’t help that Trevor’s dirty, unhelpful mind kept throwing that conversation Eris had with them about kink lists and hard versus soft limits.

“These are for you,” Conqvist handed them each a sheaf of papers, “Read them thoroughly, and don’t sign anything just yet. My private number is here,” Trevor accepted two business cards from him and handed one off to Sypha, “Text me when you both have a free evening again, and we can negotiate terms properly.”

Trevor looked through the papers, then blinked in bewilderment. It wasn’t a kink list. It was potentially worse. 

“A contract?” Sypha looked up from her own copy, “I didn’t know we were supposed to sign any contracts.”

“It is certainly preferable,” Conqvist told them, “Nothing is set in stone, of course. This is just the first draft, and almost everything in it is up for discussion. We will discuss what we all want the final version to contain, the schedules we need to work around and payment. And all of that requires more time than we have now, so take these with you and work over the things that do and don’t agree with you.”

Trevor looked back down at the contract and started leafing through it while the waiter cleared the table and put down a crystal glass of some green alcoholic drink. Trevor eyed the glass with suspicion. It looked too light to be Absinthe, but Trevor could tell that the alcohol content wasn’t too different just from the smell. 

“It’s Chartreuse,” Conqvist told him with another amused smile, “A digestive is the last course of a proper dinner. No need to be alarmed by the color.”

“It’s not the color that bothers me,” Trevor muttered too low to be heard and turned back to the contract. It didn’t seem too heavy on the legal mumbo-jumbo but Trevor was still getting bored just leafing through it. Hopefully Eris would be more familiar with how to proceed.

“So, when should we meet again?” Sypha asked.

“Let’s give it a week for our impressions to settle,” Conqvist said over his own drink. Trevor noticed his was some kind of thick red liqueur instead of the green things he and Sypha had gotten, “If the food is to your taste, we can meet here again. Would that be alright?”

“Of course,” Sypha nodded, “That would be alright with me. Trevor?”

“It’s fine,” Trevor folded the business card into the contract and put them both in his jacket pocket. 

“Excellent,” Conqvist smiled just as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes solidly on Trevor, “I must say, I’m looking forward to dining with you again.”

It was a normal thing to say. Polite, courteous. Nothing suspicious about it any more than any of the other things Conqvist had said so far, and certainly nothing threatening.

So why did Trevor’s little gremlin puff up at them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This is still going.  
> And yes, I'm aware Alucard is acting weird towards them, there's a reason for that. One you'll have to wait to discover. Also, bear in mind that, at this point, he's lying through his teeth every time he opens his mouth. And yes, his name was supposed to be Cronqvist, but I couldn't say it with a straight face so I ditched the R.  
> And my Beta pointed out that there are some similarities with 50 Shades of Things We Do Not Talk About. Everything I know about that abomination, I learned against my will, so rest assured that any similarities are coincidental and have been tried to be avoided at all costs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Two idiots trying to flirt.
> 
> Once again, Betad by the love of my life [HaleyProtega282](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleyProtega282/pseuds/HaleyProtega282). Go bow down to her. She also suggested the song for this chapter, Your Body is a Weapon by The Wombats, and, honestly, she's absolutely right.

“You two,” Eris looked up from the contract in disbelief, “are the luckiest pair of himbos alive. And I do mean that literally.”

“How exactly am _I_ a himbo?” Sypha protested.

“Well, you walked into a Sugar date with a literal high-class genius, disregarded every single piece of advice I ever gave you, and you _still_ somehow managed to charm him into taking you on!” Eris waved the contract papers like she still couldn’t believe they were the genuine article. “You two are either the luckiest pair of loveable idiots that have ever graced the face of this planet, or I have wildly misinterpreted this situation and you are going to end up in his basement, possibly vivisected, in which case you are lucky that you came back. You tell me which option you would prefer. It’s the only two reasons I can think of that you actually got this far.”

Trevor and Sypha exchanged bewildered looks. “So… You actually thought we wouldn’t succeed?”

“I absolutely did not think you would succeed,” Eris was blunt, “Conqvist wasn’t even a Hail Mary attempt. You weren’t even supposed to get to the negotiations stage! The best case scenario I was hoping for was that you would get a free dinner, get some idea what Sugar dates are like, politely be told that you’re not what he’s looking for and come back feeling comfortable enough that you’d be willing to try again. That’s it! That was the whole point! Never in my wildest dreams did I think you were going to come back with a _motherfucking contract!_ Which, in case you haven’t noticed, has a non-disclosure agreement on the first page!”

Yeah, they _had_ noticed that. They’d noticed that back in the taxi, balancing Sypha’s copy of the contract and a gigantic plate of samples from the tasting menu they’d been presented with on the way out. It made sense, since Conqvist had outright said he didn’t want to end up on the front page of tabloids. That part was probably just to make sure they wouldn’t blab to the first paparazzo they came across once he was rid of them.

Guy wanted his privacy, Trevor could respect that. It was the rest of the contract that worried him more.

“I can’t believe the messes you two are capable of getting into,” Eris was still grousing and reading through the contract at the same time, “I’d been doing this for over two years and I’ve never had to sign anything more complicated than a bank statement. And you two Sugar newbies come back from a five-star French restaurant with a professional escort contract. This is so far out of my league I need a fucking telescope. Actually, we need a lawyer. Mirela’s boyfriend is studying law, I don’t want to hear a peep from either of you until I’ve convinced her to give these to him and give them back highlighted for every fucking trap here I can’t even see.”

“Does that _actually_ make you our Madam?” Trevor joked. Eris threw a pillow at his face.

“This is fucking serious, Trevor,” she grit her teeth vaguely in his direction, “You have no idea what kind of power guys this rich can wield. I wasn’t even kidding about the basement and vivisection. If he has any skeletons they aren’t buried in his closet, they’re in an underground bunker nothing short of an atomic bomb would break through. I’ve found enough about him that I thought you would be safe in a restaurant, but all bets are off if you actually go to his house! Which is _actually in the contract_!”

“It can’t be that bad,” Sypha piped up from Eris’ counter. She had the tasting platter next to her and was slowly making her way through it, careful to take only one of each sample. “He really didn’t strike me as a creep, and I have a good sense about creepy guys. What about you, Trevor?”

“Huh?” Trevor startled, “Why are you asking me?”

“You said you used to work as a bouncer,” Sypha raised an eyebrow, “Doesn’t that mean you’re supposed to be able to notice and stop a fight before it even starts?”

“I got fired from that job for _starting_ one of those fights,” Trevor rubbed at his face, “But for what it’s worth, Conqvist himself didn’t strike me as a creep, but…”

“But?” Eris prompted. 

“I dunno,” Trevor threw his head back, “I have no idea how to put it into words. There’s just some things he’d do that gave me goosebumps for no reason.”

“That’s usually what it means when you say you have a bad feeling about someone,” Eris pointed out with a flat look. 

“It’s not about Conqvist himself, it’s more about this whole setup,” Trevor shrugged, “I kept getting the feeling he’s leaving something out.” Trevor frowned. “Also, the whole perfection deal he had going on was just unnatural. Nobody looks that good without three tons of makeup, reflectors and photoshop.”

“The low lighting probably helped,” Sypha reminded him, “And of course he wasn’t going to trust us with his whole life story. We’d literally just met! We weren’t exactly forthcoming with details about our past traumas, either.”

“You seriously didn’t get the feeling something was off about him?” Trevor asked her in disbelief, “Not even creepy or bad, but just… Odd?”

Sypha suddenly didn’t look so sure of herself either. She worried a Maraschino cherry between her lips and teeth, and the situation was tense enough that most of Trevor’s blood remained North of his waist at the sight.

“Sypha?” Eris asked suspiciously, “Do you want to tell me something?”

“Okay, maybe a little,” Sypha puffed a little in defeat, “I kept getting the impression that he was a bit too... made up. I don’t know how else to put it. It’s like he’s just _this_ close to the edge of the Uncanny Valley,” Sypha pinched her thumb and forefinger about half a centimetre away from each other. “Maybe something about the teeth…”

“The _teeth?”_ Eris sounded dubious, “Are they crooked or something?”

“The exact opposite, actually,” Trevor told her. He knew what Sypha meant. “It’s like he’s just gotten ready to be in a toothpaste ad.”

Eris looked like she wasn’t sure what to think about that. 

“But mainly, I think it’s just what he said,” Sypha insisted, “Like he’d forgotten what normal human interaction is supposed to look like because everyone he knows is just after his money-”

“You do realize that includes you, right?” Eris reminded her.

“Okay, yes, but he said we’re at least honest about it, and we’re awful at lying, anyway-”

“Speak for yourself, I can fib just fine,” Trevor grumbled.

“WOULD YOU TWO PLEASE LET ME FINISH?!” Trevor and Eris nearly jumped out of their skins when Sypha shrieked. She looked like she was trying to set them on fire with her mind, the way she was glaring.

“Thank you,” she said it like a warning, then sighed, “Look, bottom line: he’s lonely, and he’s a bit unpracticed around people who aren’t out to swindle him out of a yacht, but he’s _trying_. Maybe he’s just as new at this as we are.”

“I sincerely fucking doubt that,” Eris rolled her eyes, “Especially not if he brought a contract on the first date. And you’re empathizing with him! That’s usually a first DO-NOT of sugar dating!”

“Why?” Sypha looked bewildered, “Isn’t empathy the whole thing they get out of it?”

“First of all, it’s sympathy,” Eris corrected her, “Those are two different things. And second of all, you are supposed to _fake it._ If you start empathizing with the man who is paying you for _services,_ it gives him the perfect opening to use you! And when he finally gets bored of you, everything ends in tears!”

Trevor blanched. “Eris, please tell me you’re not speaking from experience.”

“I am, but not personal,” Eris rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm, smearing her already smeared eyeliner even more, “I went into this business with my emotions in check, but I met plenty of others who didn’t, and it never ended well. Rich people already have a decreased capacity for empathy, and they get bored of their toys rather quickly. It’s all fine and good if you know how to work it, since you end up with some pretty cash in a short amount of time and everyone gets what they wanted, but the moment you think it becomes personal, it comes crashing to the ground.”

“You know,” Sypha remarked with a blank look on her face, “You and Conqvist sound awfully similar when you talk like that. Maybe your friends aren’t the only ones who got burned like that.”

“Probably not, but that just means he knows better now,” Eris said, “Look, that bit about looking for some sincere company, I can buy that. You two are fucking adorable, and I can see why he likes you. But we have no way of knowing that: A) he’s not a psychopath, B) this isn’t going to end up as a disaster in a court of law, and C) you two aren’t gonna do something stupid like fall in love with him.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Trevor waved his arms like he was trying to chase away flies. Or in this case, unwanted thoughts. “Who said anything about falling in love?!”

“I don’t know, weirder things have happened around you two!” Eris threw her arms up, “Every time when I think things are going perfectly normally, one of you shows up and everything goes haywire. And since I still don’t know whether you’re the cause or just the magnet for trouble, I am having some serious inhibitions about just letting you trapeze off with some guy who could murder you and bury you without getting so much as a slap on the wrist!”

“Eris,” Sypha strode over to the bed, plopped down and threw her arms around Eris, “I know you’re worried for us, but we are adults capable of looking after ourselves.”

“Bullshit, you couldn’t even drink until a year ago.”

“And besides, Trevor and I have a good track record of beating up guys who can’t take no for an answer,” Sypha had the gall to throw a wink his way. How exactly was Trevor supposed to contradict her like that?

“She’s got a point,” Trevor caved, “Isn’t that one of the reasons you recommended Conqvist in the first place? If the two of us are together in this, we can watch each other’s backs if things go wrong?”

Eris pouted against Sypha’s shoulder. She hid her face in it, smudging dark lines into Sypha’s shirt. “I worry about you guys. I don’t think you two realise just what you’re walking into, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Jesus, Eris, we’re not marrying the guy,” Trevor sat next to her so he could rub her back, consciously reminding himself not to feel for her vertebrae. “We’re literally just going on a second date. And he told us to look over the contract thoroughly, figure out what works for us, and then he’d get it rewritten. We’re not going into this blind, especially with you helping us.”

Eris sighed and grumbled unintelligently while Sypha held her and Trevor rubbed her back. They shared a look over her head, one of understanding and commiseration. Sypha smiled at him softly, and even if Trevor hadn’t wanted to, he would have been helpless to resist returning it.

“Fine,” Eris finally untangled herself from them and grabbed the contract again, “If you insist on doing this, the least I can do is try and ensure your safety. We proceed as we planned: I get this to someone who can read legalese, get an annotated version, and then we can talk about reworking it. Until then, keep your noses clean.”

“Yes, mom,” Sypha laughed.

“Yes, Madam,” Trevor grinned lavisciously and promptly ended up with two pillows in his face.

* * *

Come Monday, Trevor’s brain couldn’t settle. He barely paid attention in his Zoology lecture, even though it was probably his favorite. But after the weekend he’d had, the Embryology chapter seemed so… boring in comparison.

He kept mulling over the date night with Conqvist, all the things he said and did. He hadn’t had any luck in pinpointing what had been setting the gremlin off at seemingly random intervals, bristling at innocuous comments yet staying silent when Conqvist had actually been trying to rile him up, and it was driving him up the wall. If Sypha hadn’t confessed that she’d gotten the same feeling, Trevor would have started thinking he was just going mad.

There was something off about Conqvist, and at this point Trevor was ready to sign whatever was in the contract just so he’d get the chance to satisfy that cursed curiosity.

He was starting to sympathize with the cat that got killed by it, to be honest. And unlike the cat, Trevor was pretty sure that satisfaction wouldn’t be enough to bring him back.

His phone vibrated in his pocket suddenly, and with the class group chat on mute, there were only two people left who could be sending him texts, and if it was Eris she’d simply pass him a note since she was just a row behind him. He turned the sound completely off, propped his phone on his pencil case so he could type with a pen stylus, and opened the chat.

CipherB:  
Are you free today around 5?

TrooperB:  
Lectre ends in 30min, nothng after it. Y?

CipherB:  
Come by my workplace. I need help picking out clothes.

TrooperB:  
Woudnt Eris b bettr at that?

CipherB:  
I already asked, but she said I’d be better off asking someone who’s actually attracted to girls. 

CipherB:  
It’s for the date I have this Wednesday, so I can see her point.

TrooperB:  
I thot we were meetin C on th weeknd?

CipherB:  
Not him, the other one I wrote to. Eris is insisting we keep our options open. 

Ah, yes. Eris did insist on that, well before she sent them on a date with Conqvist. Looking back, it really was fairly obvious she didn’t expect them to succeed on their first try, or at all. She’d literally been counting on it, actually, and Lord and Jesus help the poor bastard who ruined Eris’ plans. 

TrooperB:  
Sure, I can swing bi

CipherB:  
Oh ha-ha. I can’t believe your puns are actually getting worse.

TrooperB:  
U kno u luv em.

CipherB:  
Sure I do. They’re on the list of things I love right in between scorpions and missed deadlines.

TrooperB:  
Ouch. 

CipherB:  
Good. Suffer as I have.

TrooperB:  
Does anybdy else kno your secrtly evil?

CipherB:  
You’re*

TrooperB:  
Srsly? Thats the part you corect?

CipherB:  
Yes. There is lazy typing and then there are sins against our Lord of Literacy, Grammar.

TrooperB:  
Heretic.

CipherB:  
Only for fun and profit.

“You know,” Eris’ faux-disinterested voice came behind him, “if I can tell you’re grinning like an idiot and I can’t even see your face, you’re probably not fooling the professor either.”

Trevor startled, nearly dropping his pen, and warily checked the professor at the front of the lecture hall. The man seemed as tired as his students, which wasn’t surprising for a Monday morning lecture, and was probably aware that maybe a third of his class was paying any kind of attention, much less to the lecture. He wasn’t likely to single out Trevor.

“You keep forgetting this is an 8 o’clock lecture,” Trevor whispered back, “Only freakish morning people like you are paying attention to anything right now.”

“Maybe, but the others have the good grace to just be sleeping instead of flirting,” Eris remarked almost innocently, “Should I go with the obvious answer, or do I dare hope you actually took my advice?”

Trevor blushed and didn’t answer, and that told Eris everything she needed to know. 

“Just to warn you, Sypha doesn’t share well,” she continued, “You might want to wait until you’re not both seeing different people to ask her out.”

“Is that your roundabout way of giving us your blessing?” Trevor muttered into his hand. The hand he was currently using to try and hide his tomato-red face. It was failing its task more miserably than Trevor was failing his.

“No need to be roundabout about it,” Trevor could actually _hear_ the grin in her voice, “I hope I’m not what’s stopping you from making a move on her.”

She wasn’t, not necessarily, but her disapproval had been one of Trevor’s excuses anyway. And now it was down in the toilet, replaced by an actual, legitimate reason why he and Sypha shouldn’t get together.

 _Yet,_ added a rather unhelpful part of Trevor’s brain that sounded suspiciously like Eris. Trevor told it to shut up.

Luckily, he was saved by- Not the bell, since they weren’t in high school anymore, but by the professor speeding through the last few slides of the PowerPoint presentation and announcing the lecture over. Trevor put away his notebook and pencil case, then checked if Sypha had written anything else.

“Have fun undressing her, Trooper,” Eris whispered right in his ear sultrily, which absolutely did not help Trevor’s complexion, “But do remember to dress her up afterwards.”

And with one last chuckle, Eris walked out of her row and flounced off towards one of the other students, and cheerfully left with her.

Damn woman. If Sypha was a fallen angel that had come to Earth to study the good writing of humanity, Eris was a demon who had taken the first chance to crawl out of hell and enjoy their flaws. How those two managed to become friends, Trevor would never know.

Or, maybe he did. Those falling down are bound to meet those going up eventually. And sometimes they both stumble over those wallowing in the dirt, which explained how they both ended up befriending Trevor. 

Okay, the metaphor might have gotten away from him a bit. Better leave those to Sypha.

Since he’d snoozed and flirted through the lecture itself and had nothing better to do until it was time to flirt with his crush some more, Trevor got himself a cup of vending machine coffee and went to the library. He pulled out his bootleg textbook and a few dozen highlighters and got to work on making it a garish mess of color only he could comprehend. Yet another perk of not having actual textbooks was being able to ruin them as much as he wished without having to worry about selling them afterwards.

Another great thing about libraries: when he was done with his chapter, he put away his things, folded his arms on the table and took a nap right then and there and nobody even blinked. Both the students and the librarians had seen weirder things, and as long as he didn’t snore it was considered perfectly socially acceptable. Bless the academia and all of its quirks, really.

Eris came back to collect him for lunch and together they made their way over to the canteen.

“So I managed to catch Mirela in a good mood,” Eris was saying as they found a free table to sit at, “I made a copy of your contract and gave it to her, told her to tell Sebastian to go nuts with it. Law students are weird, but they have their uses.”

“Are you sure he’s going to do what you want him to?” Trevor was dubious.

“Of course,” Eris waved a hand, “They’ll probably cream their collective pants at the sight of a professional contract they’d never seen before. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Law undergrads, it’s that unfamiliar contracts are like legal candy to them. Or legal porn, in this case.”

Trevor groaned and stuffed some moussaka in his mouth to avoid saying the first thing that came to mind at that. “Are you absolutely sure there are no names on that thing?” he asked after a minute.

“I’ve read it three times over,” Eris assured him, “There’s nothing that ties it specifically back to either you or Conqvist. He really wasn’t kidding when he said it was only the first draft, he probably knew it would make its way through the hands of everyone we know who ever read a contract in their life.”

“If you’re sure.” Because Trevor wasn’t so sure of anything at this point.

“I am, at least in this matter,” Eris told him, then gave him a pointed look, “I would _feel_ a lot surer if you listened to me half as well as Sypha does.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Is this the ‘you need to keep your options open’ speech again? I told you, that woman you picked was hornier than a drunken nun, I felt dirty just talking to her on the chat.”

“So pick someone else,” Eris wasn’t budging, “It doesn’t have to be one of my choices. Browse a bit, check your inbox, play with the filters for a bit. Put your sugar out there if you want some money thrown your way.”

“Or I could pick up more shifts at my _actual_ job,” Trevor reminded her. 

“And when exactly are you planning to sleep? It’s certainly not going to be at night, since, you know, you’re a _night guard._ ”

“I’ve managed with less sleep.”

“In that case, I better take you shopping for concealers,” Eris rolled her eyes, “Those black circles under your eyes are going to need it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Trevor retorted, “It’s not like I have someone to be pretty for.”

“Well you did manage to get a second date out of Conqvist, so you effectively ruined your own argument before it even started,” Eris waved her fork at him, “So I’m just going to skip the next few scripted arguments and take you makeup shopping after this.”

Trevor opened his mouth. Thought about how that argument would go. Then he gave up with a sigh and another mouthful of potatoes. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“I know,” Eris smirked, “That’s exactly what we’re trying to fix.”

* * *

“Well, well, well,” Sypha’s eyebrows shot up when she spotted him, “Eris got her claws into you too?”

“Shut up,” Trevor grumped and plonked the drugstore bag on the counter in front of her, “I’ve suffered enough already.”

“Oh, you poor boy,” Sypha didn’t bother hiding her smile, “You do know most girls have to do that every morning, right?”

“And you have my sympathy, but why does that mean I have to do it as well?”

“Because we are entering a profession where looking pretty is actually mandatory,” Sypha told him flatly, then leaned closer to his face, “And the difference is not that big, Eris did a good job. The eyeliner isn't obvious but it really brings out those pretty blues of yours. You look very nice.”

Trevor turned pink right up to his ears. He had to turn away and clear his throat before he could speak again. “Right, well, I’m here, at your service. What do you need me to do?”

“For now, just sit here and tell me what you think,” Sypha took a hefty bundle of clothes from behind the counter and pointed Trevor to a chair in the dressing rooms before going behind one of the curtains. 

Trevor obediently took his seat and waited for Sypha to emerge. Casandra, the girl working the other shift, came in while Sypha was still changing and found Trevor lurking in the changing rooms while someone was in there. If it had been anybody else, she would have immediately been suspicious. Luckily, Trevor was here often enough bothering Sypha that she knew his face.

“Oh, hi Trevor!” she greeted cheerfully, “Is that Sypha in there?”

“Hi, Cas,” Trevor grinned, “Yeah, I’m here in a strictly consulting capacity today.”

“Hi, Cas!” Sypha waved a hand above the curtain rod, “I already cleaned up, and I’ll be out as soon as I’m done here.”

“Oh, take your time,” Casandra giggled, “I’ll man the counter, you lovebirds have fun!” And with that she turned away with a bounce in her step.

“Lovebirds?” Trevor asked the curtain once she was out of earshot.

“Really, Trevor?” Sypha poked her head from behind the curtain to give him a _look,_ “You’ve been coming here over my break at least once a week for almost as long as I’ve worked here, and we don’t look similar enough for me to give the ‘overprotective brother’ excuse. You can’t tell me you’re surprised.”

Trevor squirmed in his chair, and not just because he could see Sypha’s bra strap from his position. “I didn’t think I was making you uncomfortable. I’ll stop if you-”

“I didn’t say you have to stop,” Sypha dismissed it, “Rest assured that if I didn’t want to suffer your company, I wouldn’t. Simple as that. Now,” she pulled the curtain back and stood before him with one hand on her hip, “How do I look?”

“Guh,” Trevor said eloquently. But really, what the fuck else was he supposed to say when the girl he had a major crush on stood before him in a tiny black cocktail dress with a shoulder-and-cleavage baring neckline and _a slit up the thigh?_

“I’ll take it as a resounding yes,” Sypha grinned. “I was really lucky with this one. Some of the seams got torn up, that’s why it ended up in an Outlet store. And since I’m an employee I can literally just take it home, free of charge. See?” she put her bared leg forward to show the point where the slit began, “It’s not supposed to go this high. Easy to fix, and no one will be able to tell.”

“Ah, yeah,” Trevor was still scrambling for the one errant braincell he still had, “Real. Real lucky. Uh, you look great. Like, _real_ great.”

“Well it knocked a few dozen words off your vocabulary, so it’s certainly effective,” Sypha let out an aborted giggle and- Holy shit, was Trevor hallucinating or were her cheeks a little pink as well?

“Well,” Sypha pulled the curtain back shut abruptly, “That one goes to the ‘yes’ pile! Six more outfits to go, time’s a-wasting!”

Trevor heard choked laughter from the side, then turned around to find a red-faced Casandra with a hand over her mouth, looking ready to suffocate just to keep from laughing. She noticed Trevor looking at her and immediately hid behind the counter. Yet more near-demented giggles came from that direction.

Trevor sank a little lower in his chair and tried not to melt into a puddle of heartsick goo. Honestly, at this point, the only spots on his face that weren’t an unflattering shade of crimson were probably the same spots where Eris smeared the damned concealer.

“How about this one?” Sypha pulled away the curtain again, this time in a deep blue, knee-length dress with straps. It was also immediately obvious that it ended up in the Outlet store because of ripped seams, except _those_ ripped seams were right at the hip. Right where Trevor could see the lacy edge of Sypha’s panties.

It was official. God wanted him dead, and Trevor honestly couldn’t say if he loved or hated his methods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which everybody ships Trepha. But like, it’s literally canon that Sypha has twice as much braincells as Trevor, but unfortunately, two is still not a big number. And trust Trevor’s single braincell to be on vacation right when Sypha starts trying to seduce him. ^_~
> 
> No Alucard in this one, but he makes an appearance again soon. And for those of you who haven't played, Sypha's username is a reference to the games, when she was pretending to be a man and her name was literally Cipher.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me writing about sugar daddies like I know what the fuck I'm talking about. Please, _please_ don't take this as a guide to sugaring or anything, we're just here to have some fun. This was supposed to be one-and-done thing, but I have continuously been proven to be incapable of writing oneshots. That said, here you go.


End file.
